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INVICTUS
This free insta-love, royal romance novella was part of Aleatha Romig’s bestselling Fidelity Kindle World until earlier this year. It is now being offered as a first taste of sorts for the upcoming Full Circle Security Incorporated series that will be debuting later this year.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Having your entire life mapped out for you from birth has its perks, but it also comes with serious drawbacks.
For Ida Montoya, escaping her predetermined destiny means leaving behind everything she’s ever known and making her own way in the world. No more easy money. No motherly hugs to soothe her hurt. No soft place to fall when she messes it all up.
Felix Von Sonderberg—Crown Prince of a country he wishes he could change, son to a father he despises, future husband to a woman he’s never met—yearns to experience life out from under the shadow of his family name. For him, the offer of one year to do as he pleases, in a country where nobody knows him, seems like the perfect salve to his scarred soul.
Employing the services of a beautiful young woman to pander to his every whim during his year of freedom should be the perfect plan. All the fun with no strings to cut when the time comes to leave.
What could possibly go wrong?
Only everything. Ida might become the one thing he’s not willing to give up in order to have the heavy crown that has belonged to him since birth finally placed upon his head.
Download this free novella for a quick taste of the alphas from Full Circle Security Incorporated before the series officially debuts later this year.
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RECEIVE ROUGH MIX STRAIGHT TO YOUR INBOX
It’s a universal tale.
Two kids from the wrong side of the tracks head to LA to make it big.
Drugs, sex, and rock n roll—it’s the dream of too many to count.
Five years later, and their band, Miscreant Mischief is barely a blip on the scene and not much else has gone to plan. Sure, the drugs are abundant, and the sex is plentiful, but the promised rock n roll has been traded for shitty gigs in seedy clubs for little pay.
Her head tells her to go home. His heart swears their big break is just around the corner.
One gate blackmailed part invitation, a chance encounter with a music mogul, and an underhanded deal that should never have been made later, and they’re set on the path to stardom.
Their career is about to catch fire.
Pity his secret could send all their hard work up in flames.
Rough Mix is a free weekly rock-star romance serial delivered straight into my Ultimate Insider’s inboxes every Thursday night. Subscribe as a VIP reader to receive your episodes (all previous installments and the current episode) to your nominated email address.
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CONTENTS
Also by Kylie Hillman
Become an Ultimate Insider
Author Note
Dedication
Playlist
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Alanah, Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation | Book Four is coming soon
Free novella
Available now by Kylie Hillman
About Kylie Hillman
Contact Kylie Hillman
Acknowledgements
Contents
AUTHOR NOTE
This is the third book in the Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation series. The first two books in the series, Conan and Viking, need to be read first to properly appreciate this story.
Elements of this story may be triggering for some readers. Please CLICK HERE if you wish to learn more about the content of this story.
ALSO NOTE: As this story is set in Australia, it is written in UK English.
DEDICATION
For all the single parents out there.
Parenting is the hardest, most thankless, job in the world, but it’s also the best.
Know that, despite the struggle and the days when you feel like you’re drowning, your kids appreciate what you’re doing. They see. They know. They love you for it.
How do I know this?
Easy. I’m the daughter of a single father.
For Mick, Dylan, and Mickayla.
My little family.
My everything.
PLAYLIST
Music is my main inspiration.
You can follow Butch’s playlist on SPOTIFY
PROLOGUE
Brian
“My father once told me the most important thing every man should know is what he would die for.” ~Tana French~
I’ve always had two things in the world that I loved above all else.
My sister, Alanah, and my best friend, Victor Kennedy.
If anyone had ever bothered to ask me, I would have said without hesitation that I would die for both of them. That was until my sister decided she loved Vic more than me, and my best friend chose her love over mine.
If you think I sound bitter, you’d be right.
My life has been one abject lesson in disappointment after another.
First my mum chose the highs of her manic episodes over the lows of staying medicated.
Then, my father decided that loving his wife ranked higher than protecting his children.
I survived all that with the Black Shamrocks MC and Vic by my side. The support of the Club was my saviour while Vic was the even keel to my unbalanced ballast. With an equally fucked-up childhood, I thought we’d have each other’s back forever.
Turns out, I thought wrong.
Vic went behind my back and stole my sister from me. Then I lost them both.
But it was all good. I’d survived their betrayal because I still had the Black Shamrocks MC at my back.
Until my ex dropped a bombshell in the shape of a fifteen-month old toddler and turned my life on its head. She left my kid on the doorstep of a vacant house with a note and a bag of dirty clothes, then split for parts unknown.
Now, I’m caught between my kid and the war brewing around my Club.
They say the measure of a man is how he reacts to power.
It’s the opposite for me. I’m about to discover how I react to having my heart exposed to the world.
Because the most valuable thing in the world is no longer protecting my own ego.
The most important thing to me has blond hair and green eyes and calls me “dad.”
Within seconds of meeting my son, I knew I’d kill for
him. He was the only thing in this world that was solely mine. Mine to nurture. Mine to protect. Mine to love.
And, God help any fool who tried to stop me.
ONE
Brian
The walls of the Clubhouse are trying to close in on me. There’s too many people, too much noise, and too little air for my liking. It’s a claustrophobic’s nightmare. Not that I’m any more scared of confined spaces than the next person with half a brain and sense of self-preservation would be, it’s more about the amount of coke in my system and the weight of my upcoming abandonment that’s trying to crush me.
My hands shake while I sew my top rocker onto my cut. The needle and thread feel alien in my hands. My fingers too big and inept to manage the simple task. My body vibrates from the buzz of the coke. My eyes can’t focus on one spot long enough to push the sharp tip through the thick leather.
“Fuck this,” I mutter. Tossing my cut onto the pool table next to the sewing kit my little sister, Alanah had handed me, I jam my sweaty hands in my hair and allow my tired eyes to flutter shut.
Tonight should be the best night of my life, not the shitshow it’s quickly divulging into.
Patching into the Black Shamrocks MC has been my plan since I was old enough to understand that my dad didn’t go to a normal nine-to-five job like the other kid’s dads and I can honestly say that I’ve never wanted anything else. There was—is—no comparison. The freedom to ride when I wanted. The leeway to indulge my baser, more violent instincts. The alcohol. The easy women. The steadfast brotherhood. This lifestyle had always seemed like the answer to all my prayers.
Yet, one two-minute encounter between my sister and my best friend had changed everything.
I’d seen their connection with my own eyes. Vic was transfixed by my sister and she was clearly smitten. The laughter she had brought forth from him when they’d spoken had been the only authentic sound I’d heard him make all night. He hadn’t felt comfortable from the second he’d arrived and discovered that his mother hadn’t bothered to turn up to celebrate with him and his father was drunk as a skunk, like usual. I’d been too far gone to offer him more than my solid but silent presence at his side as a consolation and Bonnie was too self-absorbed to see that he was struggling.
His best friend and his kinda girlfriend. We’d both let him down and opened the door for him and Alanah to look at each other through a different lens.
Cole smacks into my side, and I reopen my eyes. I wish I’d kept them shut because then I wouldn’t have seen what came next…
My sister’s hand on Vic’s chest. His arm moving across her shoulders, pulling her close. Vic’s lips pressed against Alanah’s forehead.
And my world collapsing beneath my feet.
You see, everyone has their person. It might be their best friend, a parent, a sibling, that girl you meet who becomes your soul mate. Everyone has a person who is just theirs. Their support. Their other half. Their ally. Their perfect match. I was lucky enough to have two—Vic and Alanah—and I had just watched a new connection between them—one that wasn’t centred on their love for me—being forged in the fiery depths of empathy, understanding, and kinship.
It was now a simple matter of time before I found myself on the outside looking in; person-less, rudder-less, pointless, while my two persons found their person in each other.
The truth was clear to anyone with eyes.
Too late, Bonnie sees the danger and gracefully inserts herself between Vic and Alanah. She blatantly steals Vic’s attention for herself using her tight dancer’s body and her beautiful face as weapons, and I gain a momentary dose of relief when Alanah walks away without another word or a backward glance. My reprieve dies a quick death when Vic ignores Bonnie and keeps his eyes on my sister instead.
Time has never been my friend, however I’ve gotta make it my bitch tonight. It’s time to see where Vic’s allegiances lie, time to see how far down the path of disloyalty he’s already travelled, time to learn where I stand in this upcoming battle.
“What the fuck was that all about?” I demand the second he joins the rest of us with his cut, brand-new rockers, and sewing kit in hand.
Cole and Paddy have already sewn their new rockers on, but they stay put when they hear the hostility in my question.
“Fuck knows,” Vic replies, shaking his head. “Just Bonnie being Bonnie.”
He’s either truly clueless about what just happened or his ability to deceive is better than I ever imagined. My mind screams at me to play it cool, to accept him at face value because one thing Vic has never been accused of being is in touch with his emotions. Logically, I know this, yet my body and my mouth have other ideas.
Taking hold of the front of his shirt, I drag him closer to me and yank on the material clasped in my fist until he bows his head, so we’re eye to eye. Vic’s a few inches taller than me, although I’m bigger in size, and my hard grip forces him to stoop.
“Not Bonnie, fuck face. Alanah. Who. The. Fuck. Said. You. Could. Kiss. Her?”
Confusion clouds his face. Cole, always the level-headed one, pushes between us and plants a hand on each of our chests to keep us apart.
“Come on.” Cole continues playing peacemaker. “It was nothing.”
The dawning realisation on Vic’s face says otherwise. It sets my brain on fire—every fear I’ve ever had about being deserted by the only people I love comes rushing to the surface—and I barge past Cole to get back in Vic’s face. I’m not entirely successful in my evasive manoeuvre and end up caught against Cole’s barrel chest while I glare at my best friend.
“Yeah? Didn’t look like nothin’ to me,” I say, hostility coating my challenge.
Holding his hands in the air, Vic surrenders physically and verbally. “Man, I swear to you. I was just saying thank you to her for making me laugh.”
His explanation breaks through the inferno in my head. I cool my jets a little and try to look at the situation objectively. My worries about people leaving me have never been public knowledge. If anything, I go out of my way to make sure everyone believes that my mother’s bi-polar craziness doesn’t affect me.
I’m making a fool of myself and no one here would understand why.
This time when I try to get past Cole, he lets me go. Opening my arms, I hug Vic with one arm and slap him on the back with the other.
“Dude, I shoulda realised you were upset about your dad.”
Vic’s body stiffens, then he tries to get away from me. “He’s a dick, but it’s not like it’s the first time.”
I hold him tighter and refuse to let him move too far from me. Vic makes enough space to look me in the eyes and I try my hardest to shield my true feelings from him. He purses his lips, disapproval flitting across his face, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
He thinks this outburst was caused by the coke.
That’s fine by me. I’d rather him believe that instead of the truth.
I’m a giant manbaby who’s scared of being alone.
A white-hot rage at my own weakness catches fire within me. I try to swallow it down, but it won’t leave. Within seconds, I’m caught in a tug-of-war—give into the burning behind my eyes and let angry tears of self-pity fall in front of the entire Club or continue down the path of self-righteous outrage to mask my despair.
Manbaby that I am, I choose the second option.
“I’ll let you get away with it this one time. Touch Alanah again and I’ll kill you.” Every word I say comes from a place of honesty, despite the false circumstances. Sweeping a hand through the air, I indicate the room we’re in to drive home my point. “She’s destined for more than this. She fucking deserves more than this and I’m not letting you, or anyone like you, stop her from reaching her potential.”
My allegations hit Vic in the heart, just like I knew they would. It’s a low blow. One that only a best friend would know to take.
His face flushes, and he steps closer to me.
“Fuck. You.” He spits eac
h syllable at me. “And fuck anyone else who thinks I’m unworthy. I’m not interested in Alanah like that, but if I was, no one would get in my way. I’m not my father and I refuse to dance in his shadow for the rest of my life. I will be better than him. I am more than capable of making a run for VP, or even President if I choose.”
My girlfriend comes into view with Bonnie hot on her heels. I’d completely forgotten about Shari and one look at her face tells me that she knows it. Sure, she’s hiding it well by giggling with Bonnie, however I see the reproach that brings a little extra colour to her high cheek bones and stiffens her slim shoulders.
Seeing Shari reminds me that I have other options tonight. I have a way out of this mess so I can buy myself time to lick my wounds in peace and come up with a better game plan. Keeping Vic and Alanah apart just became my sole agenda—and there’s no one better to aid me in this than Shari and her position as one of Bonnie’s best friends.
After all, if there is one thing all women have in common, it’s their inability to see what’s right in front of them until someone else decides they want it for themselves.
TWO
Anita
“Remind me again, why this is necessary?”
My big brother leans back in his seat and stares at me with dark-brown eyes exactly like my own. Silence fills our small kitchen. I shift in my seat, trying my hardest not to drop his steady gaze. Folding his arms over his chest, he quirks an eyebrow and continues to look at me with his trademark blank expression that somehow manages to be unreadable and mocking all at once.
As usual, his favourite tactic wears me down without much effort on his behalf, and I give up. Scowling down at my dinner, I take my frustrations out on the stuffed chicken breast on my plate by loudly cutting it into teeny pieces with my knife and fork.
Butch (Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation Book 3) Page 2